


Missed Moments

by mywishingglass



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Internal Monologue, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 06:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12151083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywishingglass/pseuds/mywishingglass
Summary: A re-imagining of Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen's relationship from the last episode of Season 7. Additional scenes building up to the Union of Ice and Fire in Season 7's final episode, "The Dragon and The Wolf." First Chapter takes place at Dragonstone after the Dragon Pit. Spoilers for Season 7!





	1. Scars

**Author's Note:**

> It's been so long since I wrote fanfiction. Literally years! Like, a decade ago. So forgive me for any errors or mistakes as I'm slowly getting back into writing. I read the books a long, long time ago so I don't remember much.
> 
> Here is my first ever Jonerys/ JonxDany fanfic. It's not very fluffy and I have to build up the courage to write smut LOL It turned out more angsty than I hoped but well, I tried to stay as true to the characters as I could. Hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> This will be the first part of… many parts lol. Just a similar idea to what others have already done. My own version of off-screen events or moments I wished we could have seen on the show.
> 
> This takes place on Dragonstone before they set sail for White Harbour in 7x07. Spoilers, beware!

"You sent for me, Your Grace?"

The King in the North stood waiting at the entrance of Dragonstone's cave-like War Room. The silver-haired queen had her back to him, one hand holding a silver goblet and the other rested on the rough edges of her Painted Table. The light from the fireplace barely illuminating the cold, dark room as it cast jagged, moving shadows of the map table on the stone floor. The soothing sound of the waves crashing against the rocky foundation of the ancient fortress echoed in the chamber.

"I did." she responded curtly.

Daenerys Targaryen turned and faced the somber Northener standing at the doorway.

"Do you drink, Jon Snow?" she asked, eyeing the pitcher of wine and the set of goblets on an end table against the wall.

"On occasion." Came the gruff reply.

A small smirk graced the queen's lips as she walked over to the table and started to pour dark red wine into another silver goblet.

"Sit." She commanded. "Have a drink with me while we can. Fortunately, Lord Tyrion had the courtesy to leave a barrel or two of Arbor Red for the rest of us before he drinks the rest of the cellars dry."

The queen's dry humour was not lost on Jon Snow as he shifted uncomfortably, uncertain of his next move and surprised at the sudden invitation. He had expected to be asked a few questions in regards to the movement of her troops or perhaps seeking information about the Night King and the army of the Dead. Yet, here was His Queen requesting his company and offering him a glass of wine.

He lingered a few moments by the doorway, then steeling himself, made his way to one of the wooden chairs situated in front of the fireplace.

The queen moved towards him and he accepted the glass she offered, nodding his thanks as he took a seat. She, however, walked past the other chair and resumed her position on the map table with her back to him. Her silver hair bathed in the orange-gold of the firelight.

 _Hair_   _kissed by fire…_

The thought of Ygritte's bright, auburn hair crossed Jon's mind for an instant but then dissipated as quickly as it came. He hadn't thought of his wildling lover for some time now and he closed his eyes as he shook his head, wondering why she crossed his mind.

_There's no time for that…_

The voice of Daenerys broke his fleeting reverie.

"For someone with such high regard for honor and honesty, you haven't been entirely truthful about yourself, Jon Snow."

Jon's brows furrowed as he glanced at the queen. She turned her head to face him, her lavender eyes looked dark in the dimly lit room.

"You told me Ser Davos got carried away when he said you took a knife in the heart for your people."

A silent understanding registered in Jon's dark gray eyes as he shifted his gaze to the cup in his hand, his elbows on his thighs as he slouched forward. His face suddenly growing warm and he knew it wasn't due to the heat of the fire burning in the hearth beside him.

"Even Lord Tyrion brushed it off citing 'the dreariness of the North', but it wasn't just another figure of speech, was it?" she asked, her eyes not leaving him. By the glow of the light, the King in the North looked much older than he was. The dark circles and lines of his face betraying the many burdens he carried for his people.

 _For all our people_ , Dany mused, recalling the words he spoke to her not long ago.

"I saw them, your scars, at Eastwatch. When they brought you back half-dead and frozen. I-I couldn't…" her voice trailed off in a tremble.

Jon Snow looked back at her briefly before glancing back to his cup and bowing his head, "My apologies, Your Grace. It wasn't my intention to mislead you…" He paused and swallowed hard before continuing with a wry smile, "It's not a story I enjoy telling and I'm not sure you would want to hear it."

This time, Daenerys walked towards the chair opposite him and sat down, her gaze still upon him.

"Tell me."

Jon heaved a large sigh, he knew he couldn't escape or skirt around the issue any longer. He lifted his eyes and saw the queen was sitting quite still, waiting for his response. Her wineglass she had left on the table, and her two pale hands rested on her lap.

"When I was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, after the Night King and his army attacked us at Hardhome, I ordered my brothers to open the gates of Castle Black and allow the free folk – the wildings – south of the wall. Not all of them agreed with my decision."

Jon gritted his teeth at the memory of that night. He could already feel the thrust of cold steel into his gut.

_Olly…_

"One night, my steward… a young boy named Olly said that one of the wildlings had information about my Uncle Benjen. He was a ranger who had been lost North of the Wall some time ago. I followed Olly down to the courtyard and then –" his eyes shut and it was if his wounds were bleeding anew underneath his clothes.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes before he continued, "And then, I saw a wooden board with the word 'traitor" written on it. At first, I thought it was a tasteless joke and when I turned to face my men, Ser Allister Thorne – a man I had named First Ranger, a man who hated me from the first day I came to the Wall – drove a dagger into my gut."

_For the Watch…_

Dany felt a dull twist in her stomach as he told his story, as if she could almost feel the knife herself.

"I don't remember how many times or how many of my brothers… but…" sadness filled Jon's gray eyes, "But Olly… He stabbed me in the heart and I…"

Jon looked up at Dany and whispered, "I died."

Those two words hung in the air for what seemed like eternity. The crackling sounds of the fire and the crashing waves were the only sounds they could hear.

Dany felt tears behind her eyes but held them back as she let his words sink in.

_He risked his life for his people. He took a knife in his heart for his people. He gave his own… life._

Ser Davos' words rang clear in her head as if she was hearing it for this first time and finally filled in the blanks.

"But you're here… alive…"

"Aye." He replied. His throat felt dry and he took this moment to drain his cup, the sweet burn of the wine was a welcome respite.

"How?" came the breathless question from Dany's lips.

"The Red woman who came with Stannis Baratheon and Ser Davos. She… she brought me back somehow."

"The Red Woman? Melisandre?"

Jon gazed at Dany in surprise, "You know her?"

Dany nodded, "She came to Dragonstone a few days after we landed. She asked me to summon you. She said that we both had a part to play in the Great War to come. Was she not there to greet you when you arrived?"

"No," Jon responded, "And I understand why she didn't. At Winterfell, I warned her that if she ever returned North, I would have her hanged for murder."

"Murder?"

"For the death of Shireen Baratheon. Stannis' daughter. The Red Woman burned her at the stake."

Dany's hands tightened into fists in her lap. She had heard about the usurper's brother and how he also named himself rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms after the death of his brother. The War of the Five Kings, they called it. She had a faint memory of being told about his daughter, she had survived greyscale as a babe and her face was marked with the scars of the disease.

_Greyscale… Ser Jorah…_

Dany stood from her seat and headed back to the Painted Table to retrieve her cup of wine, she sipped it slowly contemplating Jon Snow's tale. Melisandre brought him back from the dead. But how? Why? Lord Tyrion has mentioned to her that the followers of the Lord of Light were a great boon to their cause in Mereen. She remembered the prophesy Melisandre had mentioned in the throne room.

 _The prince or princess who was promised will bring the dawn_ …

 _But what does it all mean?_  Dany asked herself, her head filled with unanswered questions.

"Your Grace?"

Jon Snow was standing as well, his empty cup on the arm of the chair he was sitting on.

Dany turned to face him once again, her back against the rough edges of the table, "If you told me this story weeks ago, I don't think I would have believed any of it. But after everything we've been through, I know no reason not trust you."

"Your Grace, I'm sorry if I…"

"No," Dany interrupted, "You were right not to tell me when I first asked. I understand now. And I wouldn't have understood it back then."

Her right hand fiddled with the stem of her goblet, "Perhaps I should be the one asking for forgiveness. It was wrong of me to pry."

Jon shook his head and he approached the table. Placing his palms down on the rough edges, he spoke in a low voice, his Northern drawl lingering on every word "There's nothing wrong with asking for the truth, Your Grace. And you were right. I wouldn't be a man of my word if I withheld the truth. After everything, it was only right that I told you… and I'm glad I did."

A small smile tugged at the edge of Dany's lips as she took another sip from her cup.

Suddenly, the cries of her dragons resounded in the distance and drew their attention. They both turned to gaze outside the open windows. There was no moon tonight, only darkness outside the castle walls.

Although the dragons were far above them, she could distinguish Rhaegal's calls from Drogon's. It was just the two of them now. The absence of Viserion's voice struck her heart as she recalled his shriek when he fell from the sky into the frozen lake.

_Viserion… my golden sweetling… my child…_

Dany hadn't noticed that the tears she was holding back were now streaming down her pale cheeks. Then suddenly she felt a warm hand brush against her face.

She gasped softly when she turned to see Jon Snow at her side, his right hand on her cheek and his face was mere inches from hers.

"Dany." Her name was a sigh on his lips.

_Dany, tell them! Make them! You can't! Dany, please!_

Her brother's screams resounded in her head. She saw the molten gold crown seep down his silver hair, over his dark lilac eyes…

_Viserys… The dragon who bore your name… he's gone too…_

Realizing what he had just done, Jon's eyes widened as he drew back his hand, a rueful look on his face as he stepped back.

"I shouldn't have –"

"Leave me." She whispered softly and turned her head away from him. There was no malice or anger in her tone. It was the voice of a scared girl hiding behind the commanding aura of a grown queen.

_I must have fire in my eyes, not tears… If I look back, I am lost…_

"My Queen."

Jon Snow bowed his head respectfully, then taking his leave, he left in a rush, and she was alone again. His distant footfalls echoing as he left the room.

She breathed out a shaky sigh as she let her tears continue to fall. A tightening feeling in her chest grew even tighter as she sobbed quietly, wondering if she was wrong to send him away.

Her hand touched her cheek, it was but a moment yet his touch had burned its way into her memory. Just like it did when he had held onto her hand on the ship when she was at his bedside.

 _I hope I deserve it_ …

And in a rare moment of vulnerability, Daenerys Targaryen was no longer the stoic, regal queen. Instead, in her place, was a grieving young mother, mourning the loss of her child and the regret of having sent away a man she was slowly falling for.


	2. Home

_Winter is here._ The days in the south were already so short and the nights wore on longer.

Jon Snow breathed in the scent of the cold, salty night air. The winds were strong, which was a good sign. If each day was like today, they could reach White Harbour sooner than expected.

_The Long Night._

_We can't lose any more time,_ he thought to himself,  _I've been away for too long. Who knows if Eastwatch has already been breached?_

He thought of Tormund and Beric Dondarrion and wondered if they were even alive. Jon drew his thick cloak around him. A shiver ran down his spine, but it wasn't the cold that made his bones shake. The Night King's stony blue eyes with haunted his dreams on nights when Jon even dared to sleep. How long has it been since he had a good night's rest?

_Probably not in the last few years, at least._

It had only gotten worse after coming back from the dead. If it wasn't the Night King, it was the silent darkness that kept him from closing his eyes, wondering if he would ever wake again. He took a few more deep gulps of the bitter cold air to calm himself. He leaned unto the wooden railings of the ship, staring blankly into the dark horizon. The moon was barely out tonight, hidden behind dark grey clouds yet he could still make out the chaotic waves of the sea breaking against the ship.

_Death is the enemy._

He already faced death, too many times to count, and yet he didn't feel any better for it. If anything, Death only stripped away pieces of him that he was desperately trying to hold on to.

His gloved hand was balled into a fist and he thought of his family instead. Something, anything, to remind him, to give him strength to push on.

_Bran… Arya… Sansa…_

Jon closed his eyes picturing their faces, smiling and happy. Summer days long gone.

_Rickon… Robb… Father…_

Even Theon crossed his mind. Despite what he had done, Jon meant every word he had said to his Ironborn brother.

_You are a Greyjoy and a Stark._ He had said to him.  _And I? Who am I? Father said that I had his blood, but I'm only half a Stark, aren't I? At least Theon had a sense of who he is, of who his family is. But I… I don't even know if my mother is alive. And with her is half of who I am. Will I ever know?_

Jon chuckled weakly under his breath.  _And people wonder why I brood so much…_

Jon wondered about the last time he felt truly happy. His mind wandered back to the day Sansa came to Castle Black, how relieved he was and how protective he became over her. Her return reminded him of things he had long thought to have given up.

_It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children, I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. For this night and all the nights to come._

But he did give his life. And he was crowned King in the North. He came home to Winterfell and the North placed under his protection and care. And yet, he didn't feel completely free of his vow. He thought again of Beric Dondarrion, and their conversation beyond the wall.

_I am the shield that guards the realms of men._

_Maybe we don't need to understand any more than that. Maybe that's enough._

Jon frowned deeply. It may be more than enough for Beric but he wasn't entirely confident it was for him.

_I want to fight for the side that fights for the living._

_You will be fighting their wars forever, Lord Snow._

_I'm tired of fighting. It's all I've done since I left home._

Jon instinctively gripped Longclaw's hilt, feeling the impression of the wolf on his fingers.

_May it serve you well… and your children after you._

_Children…_

Ser Jorah's voice was the last one he heard in his trail of thoughts. Jon had never even dared to dream about children. He was a bastard, and he knew that the life of a bastard was not a life he wanted his children to live. He thought about the time when he longed for a son of his own, a trueborn son. A family of his own.

_But that will never be._ Jon shook his head. " _I'm a bastard and I will always be a bastard. Snow."_

_Wear it like armor,_  Lord Tyrion had told him, _and it can never be used to hurt you._

But it did hurt him. Not because people used it against him to demean him or tarnish his honor. He could care less about that. He cared because it set him apart. He cared because all his life, he just wanted what everyone wanted, and got.

A family. A home. A place where he belonged. A place where no one looked at him as if he was anyone special or different. He found that briefly in the Night's Watch.

Jon looked up to try and see if he could make out the stars in the overcast skies. He thought of his Night Watch brothers who had passed on and wondered if they found a way out of the darkness. But they were long gone now, like so many others. Grenn and Pyp.

He thought of the free folk and felt he could have found the life he wanted with them perhaps, if they had not been on opposing sides from the start. They didn't care about him being a bastard. They cared that he was nothing but a crow. And they were right.

_You know nothing, Jon Snow._

Jon smiled softly at the memory and then immediately felt his heart clench when he thought of her. Ygritte. Her red hair, her cocky grin, her soft lips and her hands that could caress as well as kill.

_We should have stayed in that cave._

_Yes. We should have stayed. But we didn't._

He let the memory of her go into the cold night. And when he did, so did the memories of all the dead free folk. He thought of Mance Rayder and his obstinate decision to never kneel to anyone for anything. Jon hoped that his own decision to declare fealty might produce a better outcome.

_Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell._

He remembered when Stannis was at the Wall and the chance to be named a Stark was at his fingertips.

_It was all I ever wanted…_

But not anymore. There were greater things to think about. Life and Death. Winter and the fight for the Dawn. Or at least, the hope and promise of one. Will he even be alive to see the Spring?

Another reason to forego any thoughts of heirs or offspring. Would any of them even make it through the Winter?

_Children…_

_The dragons are my children… they are the only children I will ever have…_

And there it was. Without invitation or warning.  _Her_  voice. She crept into his thoughts and stubbornly lingered there. It wasn't the first time it happened. He didn't know when it would be the last time. It was much harder to stop thinking of her once she found her place in his mind.

Perhaps because she was … something else entirely.

_You're not like everyone else._

It's true. She wasn't like anyone he's ever met or ever seen. He thought of her long, silver hair that tumbled gracefully down her back, in braids of intricate design. Her lavender eyes that could pierce through your soul like a hot blade. But he knew what they were like when she gazed at him with such softness and relief like when he awoke to find her at his side many weeks ago.

She was as much a dragon as she was a queen. Fiery and awe-inspiring. Severe and precise. What she lacked in age and stature, she made up for in the ruthless determination of knowing what belonged to her.

But, just a few nights ago, he saw a different side to his queen. She knew what it was like to lose something precious to her. She knew what it was like to be broken and have someone she loved taken from her. She knew what it was like to be alone.

_I am the last Targaryen, Jon Snow._

_I can't have children._

_Leave me…_

He remembered how she looked just a few nights ago in the War Room, when she had summoned him. The orange glow of the firelight dancing on her silver hair. How her tears betrayed her and fell over her pale, white cheeks. How he longed to take her sadness away, perhaps acknowledging that her grief was there because of him. How without thinking, he had brushed away the tears from her cheek and drew so near that when she turned, he saw the tears on her long lashes. He could still remember the dampness of her tears on his thumb when he walked away.

That night, she wasn't just a dragon queen. She bore the pain of a mother, of a young girl thrust into a position of power that would have scared the wits off of even the most adept of monarchs. He heard her true voice in the softness of her whispers.

_She has a good heart._

He wondered whether –

"May I join you?"

Jon turned at the sound of her voice. A simple question, yet she always knew how to make an entrance. Two of the queen's Unsullied guards stood behind her.

A dark grey fur cloak was draped over her small frame. Her hair tied back in one long loose braid, but a few stray silver strands blew wistfully in the wind. Even in the darkness, Jon could see a rosy tinge on her cheeks from the cold and the intent gaze in her lavender eyes.

Jon gave a small nod of his head. Even after all this time, just looking at her still had the ability to render him speechless.

" _Henujagon īlva._ " At her command, the Unsullied soldiers bowed and took their posts at the other end of the ship.

The queen walked towards the wooden railings of the ship and stood a few feet from him, looking into the distance. Jon could see that her arms were bare underneath her cape.

"It's a cold night, Your Grace."

Not looking at him, she responded with a small smile, "I'm warm enough."

It reminded him of his conversation with Melisandre on the lift at Castle Black. She said the Lord of Light's fire was in her. He wondered if perhaps dragon fire flowed through the queen's veins as well. Was that what kept her warm? He was not sure what other garments the queen had underneath her furs.

The thought made Jon's face burn and he was grateful for the cover of night.

It had been almost a week since their private meeting at Dragonstone. They had not shared a conversation outside of formal pleasantries and military logistics in council meetings. Even then, when she did address him, she kept her tone guarded and impassive – every inch the dragon queen.

"Are you happy?" she asked, turning her head slightly to face him.

He gave her a puzzled look, unsure of what she was asking.

"To be returning home?" she continued.

Jon lifted his head slightly and took a deep breath before responding, "I don't think happy would be the right word. There's still a war to fight and… I'm not sure how much time we have left to be ready for it."

Dany shook her head, wondering why she was expecting a different answer. The King in the North was never a jovial conversationalist and yet… that's what stood out to her about him. How simple and real his outlook was on people and situations. There was nothing trivial or gaudy about his approach or demeanor. He always seemed to know what he wanted and that was all that mattered to him. But was it really all doom and gloom for him?

Dany chuckled softly.

"What?" Jon asked. He didn't recall saying anything that could even be close to humorous.

"Nothing." Dany replied amused, not looking at him. It had been so long since she last laughed or smiled genuinely that the feeling felt a bit foreign to her.

_Home._

"I thought I'd be happy too, when the prospect of coming home became a reality. And yet, I haven't felt anything even remotely close to happiness since I arrived." What little amusement she had felt started to fade and gave way to a longing sadness.

"You're at war, my queen." Jon stated quietly, "Not exactly a time to be happy."

Dany breathed deeply and gathered her cloak around her, "I don't remember praying for anything else other than home. Hmm, except maybe for my dragons. My brother told me that home was Westeros and the 7 Kingdoms and the only way we could come back was with an army. Well, here I am with my ships and my armies and my dragons. But being here… it still doesn't feel like home."

Her lavender eyes met his somber gray ones.

"Maybe home isn't Westeros." He commented.

"No," Dany sighed and looked back to the dark sea, "Maybe not."

_Maybe home is Braavos, in the house with the red door and a lemon tree._

_Maybe home is family._

_But I'm the Last Targaryen. I can't have children. There's no one alive who shares my name._

_I'm the last of us._

They both stood gazing out into the darkness in silence. The icy, salt-laced winds whipping through their thick cloaks and the sound of the waves and the wooden creaks of the ship the only noises accompanying them.

Jon turned his head slightly to look at his queen lost in her thoughts. The moon crept out from the clouds and its pale beams glistened in the dark, open waters.

Looking at her in the moonlight, she didn't seem real to him. Her silver hair, her pale lilac eyes, her lithe figure, her clear voice that could command armies and tame dragons. He was certain she was a faery of some kind, a mythical creature from Old Nan's bedtime stories. How could she be real?

Yet here she was. Flesh and blood and standing right next to him.

And here he was. A Northern fool in love with the dragon queen.

_In Love?_

_There's no time for that…_

He had said as much to himself the last time he was alone with her. But was it love? He thought that word was lost to him. Thought that it had died along with Ygritte. He didn't think it was possible to feel that way about anyone again. Not even remembering or knowing how or when it happened.

_You know nothing, Jon Snow._

Perhaps not. But if there was one thing he did know. It was that he may be a Northern fool for falling in love with the dragon queen but here he was anyway.

And the memory of her tears on his palm came again to his thoughts.

"Your Grace, when we last spoke. At Dragonstone. I-"

"Don't." she stopped him, her voice quiet but firm. "I know what you're going to say. Don't."

The look she gave him when she said that last word took his breath away. His left hand clenched the bannister and he swallowed hard. It was almost the same look she gave him back in the dragonglass cave, when the only light came from the torch in her hand and her pale eyes glowed in the darkness. Only at this moment, her gaze was far softer and more intimate.

Dany stepped closer to him, the furs of her coat almost touching the tips of his. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this. She knew she was vulnerable. Should she be really doing this inadvisable thing? In the middle of a war and just when the Throne was almost within reach? But looking at him, his somber face and dark gray eyes, it didn't feel wrong.

She didn't know how or why, but she felt safe with him. The whole army of the Dead could be waiting for them the minute they get off the ship, but it didn't matter.

_They're not here right now. But he is. And right here and now, he is the only thing that matters._

"I didn't mean to upset you." He finished in a whisper.

Dany smiled with a hint of sadness, "You didn't. It was wrong of me to send you away when I know you were just trying to comfort me."

Jon didn't know what made him do it, but he had lifted a gloved hand to her face. To his surprise and hers, she didn't pull away.

"I want—"

"Yes?"

His voice, husky and low, "I want to do more than just comfort you. If you allow me to."

Dany felt a tightness in her stomach and her heart started to race. He was so close. She wasn't entirely sure what she was feeling, only that she didn't want it to end. She was scared before, when he had once again found a way to a side of her that she kept only to herself. But not this time.

Dany leaned into his hand and allowed him to caress her cheek, wishing she could feel his skin instead.

"Will you allow me to?" he asked firmly. She could hear an impassioned plea in his tone.

_Jon Snow and his damn honor._

Dany tilted her face up to his and his scent filled every breath she took.

Jon closed his eyes but just before his lips could touch hers, she drew back.

"Good night."

Jon's eyes opened and the queen had already walked away from him and was a few steps behind him. He turned to look at her, questions in his eyes.

_Was this a game?_

As if hearing his thoughts, Dany stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, "You weren't at all what I expected, Jon Snow." A small smile touched her lips, "You never needed my permission before. Next time. Don't ask."

And with that, she disappeared below deck almost as quickly as she arrived.

Jon took a deep breath and faced the sea.

"Fuck." He cursed under his breath as he pounded the railing with his fist. Recovering himself, he knew that he was past the point of no return. He wasn't sure what the next step was but he knew that he wanted – no, needed – to be with her.

He felt something cold and damp land on his forehead. Looking up, another soft drop on his cheek. It was snowing.

He felt exhausted and confused. Perhaps it was time to turn in. Attempt another night of rest and perhaps it'll be all sorted out in the morning.

Jon Snow turned and headed towards the stairs leading to the cabins below.

_Yes, just one good night of sleep. And tomorrow will be better._

As the Northener's shadow disappeared from view. A silhouette of a figure in a dark corner of the ship emerged from behind some crates. It had not stirred during the encounter between the dragon queen and the Northern bastard. But once both had gone, the sound of liquid against metal was heard.

The Hand of the Queen took a long draught of wine and licked his lips once his cup was drained. A foreboding look crossed his scarred face as he looked out into the murky waters.

_Now we're really fucked._


	3. Don't Ask

_What am I doing?_

Jon stared hard at the three-headed dragon insignia on the wooden door. Barefoot and clad in a simple undershirt and black breeches, Jon thought he must look like a madman standing outside the queen's door. He should have at least put his boots on. What would the queen think?

_Doesn't matter now._

Hours of tossing in bed turned into heavy pacing and grunting furiously at himself in his own cabin. Until finally after acknowledging that sleep was not going to come no matter what he did, and realizing that in order for his mind to settle there was only one thing left to do, he left his room and made his way down the narrow corridor. Surprisingly, there were no guards to stop him once he reached her door. He made it this far, no use going back now. He knew what he wanted and, deep down, he knew she wanted it too.

_Next time. Don't ask._

He wasn't planning on asking this time. But he didn't want to break his way in either. Taking a deep breath, Jon raised his hand and knocked three times on her door. His jaw clenched and he shook his head with disbelief.

_I've done it. Gods help me._

Suicide missions. Rushing headlong into an army of dead men or facing down a cavalry. Killing hundreds of soldiers, wildings or Walkers. All that, Jon could do without a second thought. But this. This was something else entirely.

_Is she even awake? Or alone? Perhaps Missandei would answer the door. What should I say? Maybe-_

"Come in."

Jon swallowed hard. It was her. There really was no turning back now. His hand trembled slightly as he grasped the metal handle, turning it slowly and pushing the door open.

And there she was seated at the edge of her bed, facing away from him. She was alone. Her cabin was dimly lit by candlelight but he could see her as clear as day. Her long silver hair hung loose and unbraided down her back. A silk green shawl was wrapped around her and her cream nightgown reached the floor covering her feet. She turned her head to see who had entered and her lavender eyes greeted his gray ones with initial surprise.

Jon walked in hesitantly, waiting for her to command him to leave or else demand to know why he was there, but she said nothing. Was she expecting him?

Instead, Daenerys stood up from her bed, a look of intrigue on her face, curious to see what he would do next.

With one hand, Jon shut the door behind him and slid the bolt to lock it. His gaze never once leaving hers.

* * *

( _A few moments earlier_ )

"Are you certain, Your Grace?" Missandei asked, concern in her tone as she draped a pale green, silk shawl around her queen's shoulders and gently lifted her queen's intricately braided hair from underneath it.

Dany smiled softly as she wrapped the shawl around her, "I know it's been some time since you've been with Grey Worm, you should share his bed tonight."

Missandei blushed but continued in a serious tone, "I do not like leaving you alone, by yourself, Your Grace."

The queen looked at her handmaiden warmly and reached for her hands, "I'm grateful for your concern. I will miss your warmth tonight and your conversation. But I want you to be happy. The voyage is long and I don't know what awaits us once we reach White Harbour and I want you both to spend as much time with each other as you possibly can. Love, true love, it's a rare thing."

Dany brushed Missandei's cheek with her other hand although it didn't soothe the look of worry on her friend's face.

"I'll be alright. No harm will come to me, I promise you." Dany said reassuringly.

Finally acquiescing to her queen's request, Missandei bowed her head.

Dany gave a nod of satisfaction as she sat on her bed and began removing the pins that held her braids in place.

"One last thing." Dany started as she began unbraiding a coil of her hair, "Tell the guards at my door to retire tonight. I will have no need of them."

Missandei's eyes widened, "But-"

The queen gave her a look that stated that her command was final.

Missandei bowed again obediently, "At once, Your Grace."

Just as Missandei pulled open the door to leave, she glanced back at her queen, "Your Grace?"

Missandei bit her lip but then decided to proceed with her question, "You aren't expecting anyone to share  _your_ bed tonight, do you?"

Dany laughed with amusement, a twinkle in her soft eyes, "Good night, Missandei."

Missandei sighed, "Good night, Your Grace."

The door clicked shut and Dany heard Missandei's voice outside her door relaying her commands to the guards. Then, she listened intently as the sound of their footsteps faded into the distance.

As she proceeded to unbraid another strand, her thoughts lingered on Missandei's question and to that moment on the deck of the ship the other night with one Jon Snow.

_I want to do more than comfort you, will you allow me to?_

Something in the way he said the words sent a wave of warmth through her. She wasn't sure if it was the softness of his tone or the gruffness of his Northern accent that made her legs weak but she enjoyed the sound of his voice in her ear.

Smiling to herself, Dany wondered if she was cruel to leave him the way she did. But it had been so long since she had felt this way towards someone, she had to be sure that there had to be something more than just lustful desire and attraction between them.

_You weren't at all what I expected, Jon Snow._

When he had first walked into her throne room all those months ago, he was a single-minded man on a mission.

_The King in the North._

She remembered the fury that raged in her when he refused to bend the knee and fight for her.

_I mean no offense, Your Grace, but I don't know you._

He was head-strong, yet humble. Unwavering, yet respectful. He was direct in his honesty and spoke simply yet with care. He didn't resort to flattery or flippancy to gain her attention. He felt no need to.

 _Who are you really, Jon Snow?_ She asked herself.

Was he just another hero? Doing stupid, brave things that would get him killed in the end?

Thinking back to Eastwatch, Dany recalled how he did just that. Stupid, brave hero that he is.

But she also remembered the fury with which Jon had attacked the dead men racing towards him when Viserion fell and how he stood and stared down the Night King, seething with pure hatred.

_Go! Now! Leave!_

How her heart nearly leapt out of her when the wights fell with him through the ice. How she waited to see if he would rise out of the water and how her heart sank as she made the choice to leave him behind. How she waited for hours looking hopelessly beyond the snow-covered trees praying he would come stumbling out of them. How she almost stopped breathing when she saw him lying half-dead and frozen on the back of a black horse.

_A knife in the heart…_

_I died…_

Seeing those scars for the first time, she felt her heart ache and she regretted every thought she had of him as nothing more than a simple, stubborn Northern fool.

_But he's alive._

And on the ship back to Dragonstone, she never left his side. She waited and prayed while grieving over Viserion. Then, he woke.

_"Thank you… Dany."_

_"Dany? I can't remember the last time anyone called me that. Was it my brother perhaps? I'm not sure." She said with a wry laugh._

_"Why did you call me that?" She asked more seriously._

_"It suits you." He answered with a soft smile._

_"Does it? Hmm, considering it didn't end well for the last man who called me that, perhaps you're better off choosing some other name."_

_Jon shrugged weakly, "I like it."_

_Dany smiled and shook her head with amusement._

_"Alright," Jon whispered, "Not Dany then… how about my queen?"_

As Dany threaded her fingers through her hair after loosing the final braid, she stopped and glanced at her palm.

He had squeezed her hand and his eyes begged her to stay.

_Jon Snow isn't in love with me._

_But he is, isn't he?_  Dany thought. There was no doubt about that.

He had touched her cheek twice now and she wondered what it would have been like if she hasn't stopped him from kissing her. Dany felt a familiar sensation between her thighs and she breathed deeply.

They had grown used to a certain distance when they were around the others. It was necessary. Tyrion would no doubt be displeased if he knew what went on in the private conversations she had with the King in the North. But Dany wondered if anything would come out of those charged moments. She could feel Jon's gaze on her during their council meetings and when they dined together with the rest of their companions.

She knew he wanted her.  _But do I want him?_

The warmth between her thighs answered her question. But what could she do about it now?

Dany sighed in frustration. She was supposed to be a queen not this lovesick maiden pining after a hero in armor.

Chastising herself she thought,  _There's nothing to be done. You don't even know where his cabin is or even if he's there right now. Sleep and let him go._

But she couldn't let him go, could she?

 _One last memory._ She told herself.  _One final thought of him and then to bed._

The Dragonpit. Her stubborn, honest Northerner making a complete fool of himself and nearly bringing all their plans to ruin.

_He declared for me. In front of them all._

It reminded her of when Drogo had promised the Iron Throne to her and her unborn son at Vaes Dothrak many years ago before his khalasar.

But even knowing he had given up his crown, he was still The King in the North to her.

And then, even having said multiple times that she couldn't bear children, Jon had told her how she wasn't like everyone else and how the witch could have been wrong. And at Dragonstone, he suggested they sailed together to present a united front.

_We sail together._

_Together…_

But Dany knew in her heart that as much as she wanted to deny it, she was on this ship for more than just gaining a successful military alliance.

She was here, on this ship with him, because she wanted to be near him. She chose to be here just so she  _could_  be near him. So she wouldn't have to worry about him, why else did she risk everything to fly to him when he sent for her?

Dany's face burned as these thoughts ran through her head.

_Am I in love with him too?_

All of a sudden, she heard three knocks on her door. Dany sighed, it was probably Missandei or Tyrion. She was secretly hoping it was her handmaiden, her Hand drunk and loquacious did not make for good company.

Clearing her throat, she readjusted her shawl and called out, "Come in."

The door opened and Dany turned her head to greet her visitor.

And there he was.

Dany's eyes widened with surprise. He walked in absent his sword, armor, and the trappings of his King in the North garb. His dark curls, though pulled back, was disheveled and a few strands came loose. She noticed his tentative steps and her heart warmed.

_My honorable fool._

She stood up from her bed to face him. She half-expected him to apologize or say something else equally stupid and unnecessary. But he remained silent.

_Next time. Don't ask._

The look he gave her told her that he wasn't going to ask this time.

His dark gray eyes, normally somber and melancholic, now had a hungry fire in them, the look of a wolf primed to attack.

She wondered what he was going to do after she had let him come into her quarters unchallenged.

No longer the Dragon Queen or the King in the North. Not in this moment.

He pushed the door closed behind him with one hand and then calmly bolted it in one smooth motion. His eyes locked on hers.


	4. The Dragon and the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EpicBoatSex! and MorningAfterEpicBoatSex! Explicit warning that this chapter contains incredibly graphic sexual content and is intended for mature readers, 18+.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taken a lot of courage and some alcohol and some sexy music and some inspiration to write this chapter as I haven't written smut in a very long time. There's a lot of smut, a lot of fluff, a lot of NSFW and a lot of passion. Which is funny considering how terribly angsty this fic started. This may be the last chapter for now as it concludes my version of EpicBoatSex! and a bonus of the MorningAfterEpicBoatSex! I may write my hoped-for scenes for Season 8 soon when I get inspired again. For now, please leave your lovely comments and reviews. You can find me on Tumblr @mywishingglass if you would like to chat.
> 
> Enjoy my fellow Jonerys trash heaps!

Dany could feel her heart racing.  _Why hasn't he said anything?_

Jon Snow was standing in her room, barefoot and lightly clothed for bed. His hand still on the bolt of the door and his gaze fixed on her.

After what seemed like an eternity, though it was probably no more than a second, Dany decided to break the silence.

But as she was about to speak, Jon took three quick strides across the room and taking her face with one hand and the other pulling her waist towards him, he crashed his lips on hers taking her breath away.

Dany's hand instinctively flew to his dark hair and she clutched onto it as her mouth opened to deepen the kiss.

His tongue slid over her own as they tasted each other for the first time. The kisses turning frantic and driven by a passionate hunger as if attempting to make up for all the missed moments they had let pass by.

Her shawl fell from her shoulders and lay forgotten on the floor and Jon ran his hands down her torso, his fingers desperately trying to find an opening through her silk robe. Dany mercifully pulled on the lacing on the side of her night gown to open it. As the fabric loosened, Jon slid his hand in and grabbed her breast. Dany moaned softly against his lips. Jon's other hand tugged the robe off her, and the dress slipped down her body and gathered at her feet.

They broke apart hurriedly as Jon tore off his undershirt and Dany loosened the leather bindings of his breeches. After tossing the garment aside, Jon sought her lips again and she responded eagerly. He maneuvered them towards her bed. Keeping a firm hold on her hips, Jon pulled back and sat on the edge of her bed. Dany was breathing hard and her lips were moist and pink from his kisses. Still standing before him, Dany rested her hands on his chiseled shoulders, watching him and wondering what he was doing.

Jon then moved his hands from her hips to her bottom and gripping her hard, he bent his head and buried his face amongst the dark silver curls of her mound.

Dany gasped with pleasure and her fingers tangled in his hair as she felt his tongue slide into her. He lifted her left leg with his right hand to gain further access into her. Her legs felt weak as he started to suck, his beard tickling her inner thigh. Her breaths came in short rapid sighs as she struggled to stifle her moans. He continued to ravage her sex with his lips and then he slid a finger into her wet hole.

Dany didn't know how much longer she could take, but Jon's arms held her steady. His fingers matching the rhythm of his tongue, Dany felt the pressure build within her. She closed her eyes, one hand in his hair, the other on his shoulder for support. As she reached her peak, she cried out as she saw stars behind her eyes and her entire body shivered with ecstasy.

Jon's beard and fingers were slick with her wetness as he pulled back to kiss her pelvis and stomach, breathing in her musky scent. Dany opened her eyes to look down at him, her heart beating wildly. She pushed him down on her bed and straddled him.

Jon pushed his breeches down his legs and kicked them off. They were both completely naked now and Jon wanted to savour this moment as he stared at his queen. Her eyes burning with desire, her full breasts aching to be fondled and her wet sex rubbing against his torso. She pressed her full weight down on him, not wanting to give him an inch to move as he gazed at her.

But she only gave him a few moments before her lips were upon his again, begging for more. Jon groaned as she reached down to grasp his hard cock, sliding her hand down his shaft.

Dany lifted herself and guided him inside her. Jon pushed into her and they both groaned with pleasure as they connected for the first time. Dany sat up and began to ride him hard, her hips thrusting back and forth. Jon held onto her thighs as he took in the full view of Dany, her eyes closed and her mouth open as she slid herself up and down on him. Jon gritted his teeth, wanting to hold himself back as much as he can. Then realizing that he was close, he pulled Dany down to his chest, his hand on her head as he kissed her hungrily, running his tongue over her lips.

Dany moaned and sighed against his lips and then pulled back slightly to take a breath. Feeling her hold on him weaken, Jon flipped Dany on her back, her silver hair spilling unto the pillows underneath her, forming a halo around her head. Maneuvering himself to lie between her thighs, Jon lifted her right leg and thrust himself fully into her. Her sex was wet, warm and inviting and he felt her tighten as she sighed and whispered words he couldn't understand.

He pressed his lips on hers, muffling her cries as he lovingly fucked her. The scent of their lovemaking filled his senses and his pace quickened as he held her.

He felt her cunt tighten and she cried out in ecstasy but Jon didn't slow down. Lifting both her legs, he gave one final thrust and bit into her shoulder as he came into her. Her hands were on his back, his hair, his face as he groaned into her skin. He could feel her heart beating rapidly as his head lay on her chest. Breathing hard, Jon lifted himself up with one arm and looked down at her. Even now, he couldn't get enough of her. The sight of her, and the way she smelled and tasted. It was more than anything he had ever felt before, more than he thought he could possibly bear. His heart felt it would explode within him.

Dany's lips were wet and gasping. Jon's other hand cradled her face as he looked into her soft, lilac eyes. Dany attempted to kiss his lips again but Jon held her down.

 _No, let me look at you_ , his dark grey eyes seemed to say, and Dany let him.

Looking into his eyes, Dany knew that she was lost to him now. There was no going back and she didn't mind. She wondered why she was so afraid before. Thinking back to all the moments she had pulled away.

_You should get some rest… Leave me… Good night…_

Only now was the reason made abundantly clear.

 _I do love him._  Dany said to herself as she brushed her fingers down his cheek.

_There you are. I finally found you. I didn't even know I was looking for you until you came. Where have you been all this time?_

Their eyes conveyed what a million words couldn't say. As Jon bent down to take her mouth into his again, their kisses were softer, sweeter but no less passionate.

The way their bodies moved in rhythm with each other and the desire that only heightened as they drew closer proved to be more than natural – it was almost instinctive… destined. As if the very reason they were brought into the world was to come together as one.

As the sun rose over their spent, naked bodies. Dany finally knew what it felt like to come home and Jon, for the first time in a long time, found something worth living for. Holding on to each other, limbs and all. The dragon and the wolf slept soundly through the morning.

* * *

Dany opened her eyes groggily, wondering what had woken her up from her delicious slumber.

There was a rapid knocking at the door.

"Your Grace? Your Grace, are you alright?"

It was Missandei.

Dany's eyes flew open and as she sat up, she noticed she wasn't alone in her bed. Looking to her side, Jon Snow was sound asleep next to her, lying on his stomach his face pressed against her pillows. His dark black curls made Dany want to run her fingers through them again but Missandei's continuous rapping was sure to wake him.

Creeping carefully out of bed and picking up her shawl from the floor, Dany wrapped it around herself as she slid the bolt to the side and cracked the door open.

Missandei's brown eyes widened with both surprise and relief, "Your Grace! I was so worried when you weren't answering your door. I was just about to go run and get Lord Tyrion and—"

"Please do not get Lord Tyrion." Dany whispered earnestly.

Missandei took a moment to regard her queen and she gasped with understanding, "Your Grace!"

Dany shushed her. "Please. Quietly. I don't want to wake him."

A tinge of red colored Missandei's cheeks as she looked away from Dany, "Its past midday, Your Grace. Ser Davos and Lord Tyrion may ask for you... both."

Dany sighed as she leaned her head on the door, "I know. If you can… please inform them that Jon Snow and I are having… an important discussion about a very grave matter."

Missandei's lips tightened and a concerned frown crossed her face. Dany couldn't believe she was asking her most trusted advisor to lie for her because she was just caught in bed with her supposed military ally.

"Your Grace…" Missandei started but then stopped as she noticed her queen practically begging with her eyes.

After a brief pause, Missandei giggled. She had never seen Dany this way before, not even with Daario back in Meereen.

Dany joined her in soft laughter before she whispered quietly with a grateful smile, "Will you let my council know that we'll be joining them momentarily?"

"Momentarily?" Missandei teased.

Dany blushed with embarrassment, "Perhaps. As quickly as we can."

Missandei bowed her head, a girlish smirk on her lips as she walked away. Dany shut the door and slid the bolt back to lock it. Closing her eyes and pressing her back to the door, she sighed in relief.

"And what grave matter are you and I supposedly discussing, Your Grace?" said a deep voice with amusement.

Dany gasped as she opened her eyes to see Jon sitting up in her bed, his arm over his bent leg.

She reddened even more, gripping her shawl more tightly to her chest. It was a different feeling seeing him in the daylight and all of a sudden, she felt like a little girl caught red-handed for stealing a lemon cake.

"You're awake." She said slowly.

He grinned, "I am."

Dany walked cautiously back towards her bed, trying hard not to ogle at his bare scarred chest and rippled abdomen.

"Whatever it is that we are supposed to be talking about, we should—" Dany started to say as she drew closer to him.

"Come here." Jon interrupted softly.

Dany swallowed hard as she looked into his grey eyes. He was giving her the same soft look that melted her heart when he had taken her hand while he was recuperating from his wounds.

Dany sat down next to him on the bed, and Jon leaned over to pull her towards him. His mouth finding hers and she sighed in delight as she tasted him once again.

Jon pulled back from their kiss, resting his forehead on hers and pushing back her hair with his right hand, he whispered, "Have I told you how beautiful you look this morning, Your Grace?"

Dany laughed shyly and bit her lower lip, "No. I don't believe so. But you needn't lie to me to get my attention."

Jon leaned back holding her face with one hand so he could look at her more seriously, "Why do you think I would ever lie to my queen? I meant what I said about lies before and you'll not hear any of them from me. Ever. I promise."

Dany smiled, feeling her heart warm and the stirrings of desire awake again in her. She leaned forward and kissed him again, this time deeper and more insistent.

"So tell me then." Dany breathed in his lips.

"What?" Jon asked as he moved to kiss her jaw and neck.

Dany gasped as he gently pulled her shawl down so his mouth could suckle her breast, she murmured, "How do I look this morning?"

Jon chuckled as he licked her nipple then lifting her up, he lay her on her back, tossing aside the shawl to the floor so she lay bare beneath him. Just the way he wanted her.

As he entered her again, amidst her mewling cries, Jon bent closely to her ear as he thrust into her, "You look impossibly beautiful this morning, my queen."


End file.
